If I Could Make You Mine
by Ellana-san
Summary: There are words that cannot be unsaid or forgotten and a few of them are fighting to slip past Strike's lips as he stands there on these stairs, freshly released from a hug that feels a little forbidden and far too right.


_This is my first work for this pairing so… let's hope it's not a total wreck._

_This takes place at the very beginning of Lethal White because THAT SCENE am I right? So I guess spoilers for the prologue. I might do a part two maybe, I don't know. (English isn't my first language so I hope I didn't butcher it too much)_

_I hope you like it, let me know!_

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_**If I Could Make You Mine**_

* * *

There are words that cannot be unsaid or forgotten and a few of them are fighting to slip past Strike's lips as he stands there on these stairs, freshly released from a hug that feels a little forbidden and far too _right_.

It's the tears.

Fat tears are rolling down Robin's cheeks, she's swallowing back her sobs and there is something in her eyes as she holds his gaze, something that begs him to…

And that _damn _song…

That _damn _song urging him to turn back time, to…

The moment stretches far beyond something that can be passed off as a friendly exchange, it stretches into treacherous territory and he knows he needs to stay something neutral, to _leave _before he…

But Robin's still crying, still searching his eyes for…

_She's too young, it's too late, it's too complicated, you're too old, you're too damaged, she's married, it'll ruin everything, you'll lose her, she's married, you're not good enough, she's married, she's _married_…_

The objections are swirling around in his brain as the unforgivable words die on his closed lips one after the other. And yet… How he wants to let them fly free…

_It's crazy. _

It _is_ crazy. And his hand throbs and his bad leg hurts and they can't stand here forever because he can hear the music fading and he knows it won't be long before her tosser of a husband comes out to confront them and he doesn't see that ending well for any of them. He's itching to punch him and he's in no state to brawl without ending up more hurt – _and _ruining her wedding a little more than he already has which means Matthew will probably pressure her into _not _returning to work for him and…

"Cormoran." she whispers.

It's his undoing.

His name on her lips, the small hint of despair underneath it all…

If he's certain of _one_ thing, it's that Robin Ellacott doesn't need saving but, right now, he wants to save her anyway, he wants to be the person who's never came to tear him away from Charlotte. Because he sees it, how belittling her new husband can be, how he suffocates her so she doesn't have room to grow, how he…

It's his undoing.

Such a simple thing.

His name. Just his name and he, who is usually so careful, just flings any sense of self-preservation through the window.

"Come with me."

And there they are, those words.

Words that cannot be unsaid.

Words that cannot be forgotten.

He closes his eyes as soon as they slip free, bracing himself for the inevitable rejection, already thinking up lies he can tell to justify them, excuses he can toss, an awkward laugh maybe, pretend he is just talking about the job…

"Yes."

He opens his eyes, notes the relief on her face, the tears that have stopped rolling down her cheeks, the tension that has left her shoulders…

"What?" he asks because he's not sure. He can't have heard her right. He can't…

"Yes." she says again and then she laughs and he's not sure which one of them is more surprised by the carefree sound neither of them has heard in too long.

"Yes?" he repeats like an idiot, thunderstruck.

Doubt flashes on her face, remorse maybe… "Yes, if you mean it…"

"I mean it." he promises quickly before she can change her mind.

He offers his uninjured hand and she takes it with a glance back over her shoulder. She's hesitating but given how hard she's squeezing his fingers, he doesn't think it's about her decision to leave.

"We can make a run for it." he offers.

She shoots his leg a doubtful look and it doesn't sting like it would if anyone else had done the same. Because she's not judging, she's estimating how much he's favoring his good foot and she's not impressed because she probably knows he should be lying on a bed somewhere with his prosthesis off and ice on his stump to relieve the strain.

And yet he would run for her.

Right now.

If she said the word, he would run down these stairs and off to the car Shanker's no doubt sleeping in by now and he wouldn't even cringe at the pain because it would be worth it.

"Alright." he amends with a small smile. For the first time that day, the smile doesn't hurt his face. "We can make a _slow_ run for it."

She laughs again, there's a tinge of hysteria to it but she squeezes his hand again and he tentatively entwines their fingers and when she smiles at him, the throb on his other palm isn't so bad anymore and he cannot even feel his stump.

Elation's a powerful thing.

"I should warn my parents, at least…" she says.

And he nods because, of course, she needs to warn her parents.

Nobody runs out of their own wedding.

It's not so simple. It's not…

"I'll wait." he promises again.

The way she's looking at him, he wonders if she knows he means that in the absolute. He _will _wait, he realizes. If she goes back inside and chooses to stay, he will wait for her to realize Matthew is a bastard who doesn't deserve her giving him the time of day – and maybe _he_ doesn't deserve her either but he'd never have done what that tosser's done to her, if she were his, he'd…

"If I go back, they'll never let me leave. It'll be a disaster." she continues and goes down a step so they're standing next to each other. With her heels, they're roughly the same height but she still has to tilt her head back a little and they're standing too close and he's wondering if…

How much of a bastard does it make him to want to kiss a woman on her wedding day to someone else?

How much of a bastard does it make him to want to kiss a woman who works for him?

"What…" His voice is rough and he has to stop to clear his throat before trying again. "What do you want to do, then?"

The choice's taken from them when the door swings open at the top of the stairs.

It's not Matthew or her parents, just a group of people wanting a smoke and to gawk at the unfolding drama.

"Let's go." she whispers, making her decision. "I'll call them from the car. Oh, my phone…" She looks back at the unlit upstairs windows and then shakes her head. "It doesn't matter."

"You can use mine." One of the guests has gone back inside and he has the strong suspicion it's to get Matthew. "If you want to slip away, we should…"

"Yes." she says again and he wonders at how such a small word can be so sweet to hear.

They don't run to the parking lot because Robin's right – as she usually is – and his leg wouldn't have been able to handle it. But they walk fast – or rather she walks fast and he hobbles next to her like an unbalanced oversized gorilla. It's not the gracious exit he's hoped for but Robin's still holding his hand so he will take it.

Shanker's reclining in the driver seat, his feet on the dashboard, his hand dangling through the open window, a joint wedged between two fingers… He sits up straight when he spots them and takes a last drag before tossing the weed away, barking a laugh. "Thought you weren't trying to stop the wedding, Bunsen?"

No clever retort comes up because he's too happy to think of one. He shares a look with Robin as she climbs on the back seat, he settles in the passenger seat and rasps his knuckles on the dashboard twice.

"Get us out of here quick and you might get a bonus." he offers because he feels generous.

Shanker laughs again and twists in his seat to look at Robin. "Good for you!"

She answers with half a smile, worry already clouding her eyes.

"Are you sure?" Strike asks her calmly, the strange euphoria suddenly doused.

He will let her go without a fuss if she changes her mind, he will understand even.

She meets his eyes and the doubts recede, she relaxes again and, this time, the smile is genuine. "I'm sure." She turns to Shanker and lifts her eyebrows. "Go on, then."

"Where to?" Shanker asks, turning the engine on.

There are figures moving at the other end of the parking lot and Strike hopes they'll be gone before they reach them. He doesn't fancy a confrontation. Not now.

"The office." both he and Robin say at the same time.

They share another look while Shanker laughs at them, muttering something about two birds of a feather…

Strike probably should be worried because it can only get complicated from that point on. He and Robin will need to have a conversation that will no doubt lead to discussing feelings which is never his favorite thing, Shanker's high and shouldn't be behind a wheel, never mind driving at the speed's he's going, he can still lose her both as a friend and a partner, nothing stops Matthew from coming after them if he so wishes and he knows at some point soon the man _will_ probably try to confront _him_ about the failed wedding and that will only end up with punches thrown and a very angry Robin…

He knows all that and yet he can't quite care because for the first time since this whole case started, he feels like he can breathe easily again.

When she's with him, he can always breathe more easily.

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_Did you like it? Let me know!_


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